✨ Hello, my lovely readers! 💖

I hope you all are doing absolutely amazing and shining bright like the stars you are! 🌟✨ Today marks the beginning of a truly special journey—one where I am the storyteller, and you, my dearest readers, are the heart and soul of this adventure! ❣️📖

Before we dive in, I want to share something from my heart—I'm an Indian writer, and English isn't my first language. So, if you spot a few mistakes here and there, I hope you'll overlook them and focus on the emotions and love woven into this story. 💙🌸

This journey is going to be beautiful, emotional, and unforgettable, and I can't wait for you to be a part of it! ✨ So, please shower your love by liking, commenting, and sharing your thoughts—your support means the world to me! 🦋💫

Happy reading, and let's make this journey magical together! ❄️💖

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Late Night, Mumbai

It was around 1:30 AM. Away from the noisy and bustling world, there was a deserted road, and along this road stood a grand Shiva temple. During the day, it remained lively with devotees, but at night, it sank into a silence as eerie as a cremation ground.

The continuous tinkling of anklets echoed in the air, accompanied by the soft sobs of a girl. Her bangles clashed against each other, creating a sound, while her lips mumbled, "Let me go... I said, let me go..."

Just then, a man spoke, "We'll let you go... but first, let Sir arrive. After that, he will decide what to do with you and what not."

Behind the temple, several cars were parked in a circular formation. Right in the center, two men had captured a 19-year-old girl, dressed as a bride, holding her tightly in their grasp. They had clutched both her wrists firmly, and she kept struggling to break free. Her bangles clinked against each other, her anklets jingled as she moved her feet desperately, and from constant speaking, her lips had gone dry. Exhaustion made her sobs even more intense.

The girl's face was calm and fair, with a black mole near her lips that could enchant anyone. Her innocent face was flushed with anger. She persistently tried to free herself, and in the car's headlights, her furious yet innocent face gleamed clearly.

Suddenly, the sharp screech of a car taking a speed break echoed, silencing everyone instantly. The girl, too, froze in fear and quickly turned her head to look at the approaching car. It was far more expensive and luxurious than the other vehicles present.

The driver's door opened, and someone stepped out, dressed in a black business suit.

The man holding the girl spoke, "Our boss has arrived... Now he will decide what to do with you and what not."

The girl glared at him furiously and spat, "You b*****d! First, let go of my hand!"

Just then, a deep voice came from behind her, "We'll let go... but first, place your hand in mine."

Startled, the girl turned her face and saw the man standing before her. He was a 32-year-old, dangerously handsome and charming—someone who could steal anyone's heart at first sight. Any girl would be instantly mesmerized by him, but here stood our heroine. Would she be so easily attracted to someone?

She looked into his eyes with burning rage and demanded, "What do you want? Why are you keeping me here? I need to leave! My boyfriend is waiting for me at the temple... I have to get married—"

Before she could finish her sentence, the man took slow steps toward her and said in a sharp tone, "Your boyfriend is waiting? For marriage?"

Then, gesturing toward one of his men, he ordered, "Show madam the temple footage."

The man followed his command, playing the footage from the temple's security cameras on his phone and holding it up for the girl to see.

The temple was engulfed in deep silence. Only a lone priest was present, lighting a lamp, and apart from him, there was no one else. Seeing this, the girl's eyes widened in fear and shock. She panicked and said, "Samrat... where is Samrat?"

The man immediately snatched the phone, turned it off, and slipped it into his pocket, saying, "How would I know where he is? Maybe he never came."

The girl glared at him with anger and anxiety, retorting, "No! That's not possible! I know he came... our wedding—"

Before she could finish, the man smirked and said in a cold voice, "Shravani Kulkarni... that's your name, isn't it?"

Hearing her name, the girl was stunned. She just stared at him and then, startled, asked, "How do you know my name? Who are you? And why have you suddenly held me captive? Look, let me go, or else I will call the police—"

Interrupting her again, the man chuckled and said, "Police? The police have been searching for me for the past ten years, yet they couldn't catch me even when I was right under their noses. And you think you'll be able to call them? Absolutely not, Dearest Wifey!"

"Police? Pichle das saalo se police mujhe dhund rahi hai, lekin unke nazron ke saamne hote hue bhi wo mujhe nahi pakad paai. Or Tumhe lagta hai ki tum police ko bula paogi? Bilkul bhi nahi, Dearest Wifey!"

Wife? Hearing this word from his mouth, Shravani fumed with rage. She yelled, "How dare you call me your wife?"

The man smiled and said, "If I don't call my wife a wife, then what should I call her? A wife is a wife, after all. Or do you prefer names like Sona, Mona, Darling? But I don't believe in such things. So, for me, you are just Wife... only Wife!"

Seething with anger, Shravani snapped, "What the hell is your problem? And why have you kept me captive?"

The man replied in a cold voice, "First, speak with respect... I am your future husband. And also the most dangerous mafia and reputed businessman in this world—Moksh Singh Chandravanshi!"

"Pahle to tamiz mein baat karo... mein tumhara hone wala pati hoon. Or is duniya ka dangerous mafia or reputed businessman, Moksh Singh Chandravanshi!."

Shravani's face hardened. She had heard this name many times before but had never seen the face behind it. Today, she had not only seen his face but also heard his words and experienced his actions.

Fuming, she said, "Oh! So you are the Heartless Moksh Singh Chandravanshi! I've heard a lot about you. And at one time, my father used to work in your company, but you fired him just to satisfy your ego! Is that why you've held me captive here? What do you gain from this? You already fed your ego by firing my father—"

Suddenly, Moksh slapped her hard across the face!

Shravani's face jerked to the side. She couldn't believe that Moksh had actually hit her. His fingers had left red marks on her cheek.

Moksh placed his finger on his lips and said mischievously, "Shhhhhh... You talk too much! Just like your father... But alas! He wasn't even your real father."

Hearing Moksh's words, Shravani seemed to forget the slap. She stared at him in shock and, with a trembling voice, asked, "What...? My father...? What... what are you saying?"

Moksh laughed cruelly and said, "Yes! Your father himself sent you to me... for marriage."

Shravani, shaking with anger, said, "Impossible! He sent me here to marry my boyfriend, Samrat! Not to marry a heartless man like you, who doesn't even respect women!"

Moksh, in his dominating voice, said, "At first, even I thought your father called me and my men to the temple to return my deal's money. But when my men arrived, the truth turned out to be something else. The scene was completely different. There was no money in the temple... but you were there! Dressed as a bride! When my men investigated, they found out that I had been deceived. And now, listening to you, it seems like your father deceived you as well. He sent you here, telling you that your boyfriend would marry you... and he called me here, telling me that he would return my money. But the truth is, he didn't hand over the money—he handed you over to me!"

Taking a step forward, Moksh said in a cold voice, "And Moksh Singh Chandravanshi has a habit... he never makes a deal without profit! Didn't get the money... so what? A person will do just fine! Until I get my money, this person will stay right here! And yes, my dearest wifey! I am heartless... I am super-duper heartless... I am cruel... I am ruthless... I am brutal... but... I AM FIRE! I AM LIBERATION! That's why my name is MOKSH! I am Moksh! People don't beg me for life... they live with the hope that maybe I will spare them! But alas... I was never made to give life—I was made only to give liberation! Only and only Moksh!"

"Or Moksh Singh Chandravanshi ki Aadat hai... wah koi bhi deal bina fayde ke nahi karta! Paisa nahi mila... to kya hua? Insaan hi sahi! Ab jab tak paisa nahi nikalta, tab tak ye insaan yahi rahega! And yes, my dearest wifey! I am heartless... I am super-duper heartless... I am cruel... I am ruthless... I am brutal... but... I AM FIRE! I AM LIBERATION! That's why my name is MOKSH! Me Moksh hoon! Log mujhse jindagi ki bhik nahi maangte... balki is umid mein jite hain ki shayad mein unhein jinda chhod doon! Par afasos... mein kisi ko jindagi dene ke liye nahi, sirf moksh dene ke liye bana hoon! Sirf or sirf Moksh!"

Moksh's voice was so terrifying that the deep silence became even deeper.

Shravani kept staring at him in fear...!

She still couldn't believe that her father had betrayed her so cruelly. Yes, it was true that he wasn't her biological father. She had been adopted by him. When she was twelve years old, she had been brought home from an orphanage. She had spent seven years with her adoptive parents, but today, this was how they repaid her love? She had been sold to a wealthy man, and she had no idea!

She had been so blinded by her parents' love and her boyfriend's affection that she left home in the middle of the night for marriage without thinking twice. But now, the truth was in front of her—a bitter, heart-wrenching truth that pierced deep into her soul.

Moksh looked into her lost eyes and said, "Well, I have no real interest in marriage. But let's make a deal—one that benefits both of us."

Shravani immediately looked at him and asked, "What kind of deal?"

Moksh stepped closer, smiled, and gently placed his hand on her face, saying, "That you marry me...."

"Yahi ki mujhse shaadi kar lo...!"

Before he could finish, Shravani rejected him outright and said, "Not a chance! I would rather die than marry a heartless man like you!"

Moksh laughed loudly but suddenly stopped and said, "Then where will you go? Your father sold you to me, which means he won't take you back home. And as for your boyfriend..." He glanced at his men and asked, "Which one of you told me that madam was calling him repeatedly?"

One of the men said, "Sir, she called him several times, but every time, he disconnected the call."

Moksh looked into Shravani's eyes and said, "Does he love you? Then he would have at least answered your call! But he ignored you. Why? Maybe..."

Shravani quickly turned her face away.

Moksh's eyes gleamed with a strange light, "By the way, should I give you another surprise?"

Shravani narrowed her eyes at him. Moksh's smile deepened. He took out his phone and played an old video.

Shravani's eyes widened. On the screen, her father, her mother, and her boyfriend Samrat were seen sitting together, engaged in conversation.

Shravani's mother said, "We have to manipulate her into going for the wedding. After that, she will be out of the way."

Shravani's father added, "Yes, Samrat, you just trap her in marriage. Once that happens, this house and the property will be ours."

Shravani's boyfriend replied, "No worries, Uncle. Shravani won't even realize that this was all pre-planned."

The ground beneath Shravani's feet seemed to slip away. Samrat... her own parents... they were all in this together? Just to throw her out of her own property?

Tears started flowing from her eyes. She looked at Moksh with a gaze full of pain.

Moksh turned off the phone and looked at her. "I'm giving you half an hour to think. Decide what you want to do. I will get my money back anyway... but your fate is in your hands now."

He turned to his men and ordered, "Get a chair for madam. She needs to sit... and think."

With that, he walked toward his car, leaving Shravani standing there like a broken piece of wood.

Moksh reached his car and placed his hand on the door handle. But before he could turn it, a soft yet firm hand grabbed his wrist from behind—it was Shravani.

Her eyes were filled with tears, but now there was no helplessness in them. Instead, they held something else—a decision, a vow, and a storm of anger.

"I will marry you," her voice trembled, but her words were clear. She didn't look at Moksh while saying it, but the next moment, she turned to him with fiery determination and added, "But promise me... you will take revenge on these people. They played with my emotions. If they never needed me, why did they adopt me?"

A crooked smirk appeared on Moksh's lips. He glanced at her small, trembling hand that was still clutching his wrist.

Placing his warm hand over her tiny wrist, he said, "Because without you, your grandfather's wealth wouldn't have been theirs. You were adopted because they needed a child to inherit that fortune. But the moment you turned eighteen, all the property was transferred to your 'father's' name. If they had thrown you out immediately, the world would have questioned them. So they used your boyfriend to trap you in this fake love, and now that their work is done, they are discarding you like trash."

Hearing this, whatever little hope Shravani had left for Samrat turned to ashes.

Moksh looked straight into her eyes and asked, "What do you think? Did your boyfriend Samrat ever truly love you? No. He loved your wealth. That's the true nature of middle-class families—they can do anything for money."

Then, with a short laugh, he mocked himself, "Irony, isn't it? I can also do anything for money... but I won't stoop as low as your father. I take what's mine by force. And what isn't mine... I don't even consider it worth the dust under my feet."

"Irony dekho, paiso ke liye to mein bhi kuch bhi kar sakte hoon... lekin tumhare baap ki Tarah gir nahi sakta. Jo mera hai, use mein chhin leta hoon. Or jo mera nahi... use mein dhul bhi nahi manta"

Shravani's throat went dry. She steadied herself and asked, "What do I have to do?"

Moksh shrugged and said, "I gave you half an hour to think, dearest wifey. Do you want to marry me, run to your boyfriend, or come up with some other plan? The decision is yours."

Shravani took a deep breath and closed her eyes. A few tears escaped down her cheeks as she spoke, "Mr. Moksh... I had no one besides my adopted family. Now, they are gone too. I had a boyfriend, but he turned out to be a traitor. I was once connected to an orphanage, but even that tie ended a year ago. I am now over eighteen, and the law does not grant me any rights to seek their help."

Moksh clapped mockingly and said, "Wow, at least your adoptive parents educated you well. They taught you enough to know about laws and rights. But listen to me carefully, dearest wifey..."

He leaned in closer and locked eyes with her before saying, "The law bends before me; I don't bend before the law. Here, the law submits to me, and I submit to no one. The entire empire bows before me."

"Kanoon mere mutabik chalta hai, mein kanoon ke mutabik nahi. Yahaan kanoon mere samne jhukata hai, or mein kisi ke samane nahi. Mere samane pura saamarajya jhukata hai"

Shravani clenched her fists. Her eyes burned with anger, pain, and helplessness. Then, in a low but firm voice, she declared, "I am ready for this marriage."

A victorious smirk spread across Moksh's face as he said, "Congratulations, Mrs. Chandravanshi! Let's go. The priest is waiting for us at the temple."

Then, he extended his hand toward her.

Shravani hesitated for a moment before placing her small, trembling hand in his large, strong palm. Her delicate fingers fit into his grasp as if they had always belonged there.

And with that, Moksh pulled her along, leading her toward the temple—toward a destiny filled with both darkness and light, toward a future neither of them had foreseen.

This marriage was more than just a deal; it was about to become something far deeper. A battle of hearts and an inferno of passion—one that would soon ignite.

Meanwhile, in Kolkata, West Bengal...

The city's grandest marriage hall was glowing with lights. A mass wedding ceremony was taking place, where hundreds of couples were ready to tie the knot. Among them was Tag No. 36, where a bride, dressed in a red lehenga, stood in front of a mirror, gazing at her own reflection.

The bride's name was Afsana, as written on the sideboard. Her large eyes held an unfamiliar spark, yet her mind swirled with countless questions. She shifted her gaze from the mirror to her friend, who wore glasses and was eagerly waiting for the wedding rituals to begin.

"I wonder when the rest will arrive," Afsana said with slight impatience.

Her friend chuckled and replied, "Come on, Afsana! It's your wedding, and you're the one getting impatient. Why are you always so excited?"

Afsana gave a shy smile and muttered, "What can I do? This wedding is happening with such difficulty... Mom and Dad suddenly disappeared somewhere too."

Her friend held her hand and reassured her, "Don't worry, they just went to the stage to talk. Yours is the next wedding; the groom must be on his way. And anyway, who would leave such a beautiful bride?"

Afsana pouted in mock anger and said, "Hmph! I'm not some fairy of beauty that he won't go anywhere else. I just want him never to leave me."

But the moment she uttered those words, the hall shook with the deafening sound of gunfire!

Panic erupted everywhere. People screamed and ran for cover. Afsana's laughter turned into fear. The color drained from her face. Her eyes frantically searched for her parents, but in the chaos, everything seemed blurry.

Then... she heard the sound of approaching footsteps—fast, firm, and unhesitant.

That sound... it was heading straight toward her. And then, it stopped. Right in front of her.

Afsana slowly lifted her eyes. A tall, well-built man stood before her. He was dressed in black, his face masked, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses. There was an aura of fear around him... but even more than fear, there was an eerie sense of calm.

Suddenly, the masked man lifted his hand and grabbed Afsana's wrist!

Afsana's breath hitched.

"Pandit, the next wedding will be ours," the man said in a cold, firm voice.

"Pandit, agali shaadi hamari hogi."

A chilling silence spread through the hall.

---

What happens when a heart is bound by stone?

Will Moksh ever understand Shravan i's pain?

Was Afsana's groom really the one she was supposed to marry, or was he someone else?

And those gunshots—were they just a threat, or a sign of a much bigger conspiracy?

🌸 Thank you for reading! 💖

Your support means everything to me! If you enjoyed this part, please don't forget to like and leave a comment below—your thoughts and love keep me motivated! ✨📖

See you in the next update! 🦋💫